


Words Unspoken

by WindowsDown22



Category: tronnor - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, possiblesmut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:22:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindowsDown22/pseuds/WindowsDown22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troye Mellet spends his days enveloped in silence. He feels nothing, only a numbness that he can’t seem to find an escape from. Connor Franta has it all, at least that’s what everyone seems to think when it comes to the most popular boy in High School. No one really knows the struggles he faces on a daily basis. After spending years as neighbours, sharing intimate moments without so much as a single word being spoken, Troye and Connor come together in hopes of helping one another. This is their journey on the path to self discovery and uncovering all the secrets that come along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Unspoken

Troye Mellet spends his days enveloped in silence. He feels nothing, only a numbness that he can’t seem to find an escape from. Connor Franta has it all, at least that’s what everyone seems to think when it comes to the most popular boy in High School. No one really knows the struggles he faces on a daily basis. After spending years as neighbours, sharing intimate moments without so much as a single word being spoken, Troye and Connor come together in hopes of helping one another. This is their journey on the path to self discovery and uncovering all the secrets that come along with it. 

He slinks through the hallways, disregarded by the hoards of teenagers that surround him. On a rare occasion someone might glance up, eyes landing on his slight figure that passes them by without as much as a squeak. They return to their previous task moments later, not a second thought to spare for the boy who walks around unnoticed like an ant on a busy sidewalk.

Getting to his lockers proves difficult, for a throng of preppy girls stand in front of it, gossiping about which boy has the best body on the swim team. Their high pitched laughter bounces of the walls, making it sound like a pack of hyenas have invaded the school. It causes him a great amount of agony to stand there and listen to their insistent chatter about nothing of importance, but he doesn’t say anything. He simply waits patiently until they finally disperse with no sign that they’d even noticed his presence. With a sigh, he gets ready for the torturous day of school that lies ahead.

The first class he enters is English, where a red-haired woman stands at the front of the classroom, a large toothy grin plastered across her face. She has a clipboard in hand as she calls out the roll in a louder the necessary tone. Her heels clicking against the floor as she paces back and forth, the bun she thrown her hair into wobbling like jelly on top of her head. The name Mamrie Hart is written on the whiteboard in a messy scrawl, as if no one knows who the eccentric, crazy, English teacher is. 

“Troye Mellet.”

His name is called out, yet he doesn’t answer with a ‘yes’ like the others who precede him. He simply raises his hand timidly, gaining a nod of recognition from Miss Hart before she continues on, calling out names he has never bothered to learn. In a sense they are as much of ghost to him, as he is to all of them.

“All right class,” Miss Hart speaks with a clap of her hands. “Let’s get today’s lesson off to start shall we?” She turns her back on the students before her and begins scribbling on the board. Troye doesn’t bother to copy anything down, simply choosing to longingly gaze out the window instead. He watches a bird flying around in the strong breeze without a care in the world, free to do whatever it wants. He would give his left leg to be the bird, so he could fly far, far away and never look back. But here he is; stuck in a sweltering hot classroom which smells of teenagers sweat and the lingering scent of booze. He suspects this comes from Miss Hart’s desk drawers, for he won’t be surprised if his teacher is drunk right now. 

He taps his fingers callously against the desk, glancing up at the time which read 9:25am. Only four minutes have passed since he last looked at the clock, the hands moving teasingly slow. He curses inwardly, wishing for this day to finally be over. 

...

Troye gets home, with no other thought on his mind than to scroll mindlessly through his tumblr until sleep overtakes him. Unfortunately luck is not on his side, much like most days in his sad excuse for a life. 

“Troye darling? Is that you?” His mother calls out in her sickeningly sweet voice. He doesn’t respond, walking through the halls towards the delicious smell that fills his nostrils and makes his mouth water. He enters the kitchen to his mothers’ cheerful disposition, a smile plastered across her face that’s brighter than the sun as she trots around making dinner. He sometimes wonders how this joyful woman produced him, someone who can barely manage to lift the corners of his mouth, even on a good day.

“Oh there you are sweetie? How was school today?” He shrugs in response with a frown on his face, not knowing how to voice what he is thinking. How is he supposed to tell his mother, ‘I hate every single aspect of the place, and I want nothing more than to just run away to never return.’

The Mellet family have lived in La Crescent, Minnesota for five years now. Troyes siblings have adjusted to the move rather quickly, for they are all social, outgoing and kind people. They have met new people, made new friends and live their life just like they did back when they resided in Perth, Australia. 

Things have been a little harder for him. He has always been a shy kid. Friends are something of an oddity to him; a rare jewel amongst a bunch of plain, old rocks. And just when he finally feels like he is making progress in this area, his family up and moves to a new place. He is in a constant state of loneliness these days and it’s all just too much for him. He spends his days in his own company, only speaking to anyone when it’s an absolute necessity.   
The last time he remembers speaking is fifty-seven days ago to his brother Tyde. He recalls Tyde had begged him to utter just a simple sentence, even a single word. “I’m fine, now leave me alone,” he had whispered in return, before turning over in his bed and closing his eyes. Tyde had eventually left and all he could think was, ‘It would all be better if I never woke up again.’

“Well I’m making your favourite tonight sweetheart. Hopefully that’ll make your day a little better, right?” He snaps back to the present as his mother places a comforting hand on her sons shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. Again he just shrugs. His mother releases her grip with a slight nod of her head, the smile melting off her face at the sadness that encompasses her sons face. He just saunters off, shoulders hunched, big blue eyes cast downwards in despair. She can only watch him go, not knowing what else to do.

The rest of his night is spent sitting in his room only coming out for dinner. His mother watches him closely, studying him as he eats the smashed avocado with eggs and feta cheese. Her gaze is so intense it’s like she’s examining something under a microscope, the scrutiny making dinner almost unbearable for him. He knows his mother is waiting for any sign of happiness, but once done he simply rinses off his plate and makes his way back to his room without a word.

He doesn’t know what time it is when a knock sounds as his door, disrupting the deafening silence like a gunshot.

“Troye?” Before he can reply his sister Sage barges through, looking stunning as always. Her long, blond hair frames her face perfectly, her bright eyes piercing through the darkness of the room that Troyes sits in. She struts over to his bed before sitting down, resting her head on his shoulder, a comfortable stillness settling over the two. Troye continues to scroll through his Twitter feed, Sage watching, smiling every so often as she recognizes some of the celebrities who her brother follows.

“Did you make any new friends today?” Sage speaks. She asks him this daily and it is something that leaves him in an irritable mood. He knows she’s only looking out for him, but he doesn’t see the point in asking a question that she already knows the answer to. He solemnly shakes his head.

“You know who I think you should make friends with? Connor Franta.”

He raises his eye-brows at this statement, not knowing exactly where Sage is going with this line of conversation.   
“I mean you’re in the same year at school and, you know, he is really nice, not to mention extremely hot. And if you become friends with him then you can bring him around here so I can have a chance with him,” He wants to chuckle but he can’t bring himself to, so he just rolls his eyes. “I mean I know I’m a little young, but I like to think of myself as a mature being and if he could just see that...” Troye’s mind drifts away from the conversation to the boy they’re talking about.

Connor Franta. 

At his school, Connor is treated like royalty. With his charming demeanour that makes all the girls swoon, devilishly good looks that have even the straightest of boys questioning their sexualities, and status as captain of the schools swim team, Connor is what every girls wants to have and what every boy wishes to be. If the school were a jungle, he would be the apex predator. Yet to Troye there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the boy in question.

“So what do ya’ think?” Troye hasn’t been paying enough attention to even try to answer his sister, so he remains quiet, knowing she won’t think anything of it. His life is enveloped by a staggering quietness nowadays, something his family has become accustomed to. The grasp it has on him is relentless and no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t seem to find an escape. 

Sage eventually stands, flicking her hair behind her ears as she kisses him on the cheek. 

“Goodnight,” she whispers meekly before leaving. The moment his door shuts he moves over to the open window, something he finds himself doing a lot in attempt to relax himself before sleep. In the back of his mind however, he knows there’s another reason he has situated himself there, staring out into the darkness of the night. 

The cool breeze runs over his body, sending shivers down his spine. Enjoying this feeling he closes his eyes, taking in deep gulps of the fresh air. When he opens them once more his gaze is met by a sight that never ceases to make him squirm. He’s captivated by the feeling, albeit not knowing whether he likes it or not. The boy who lives in the neighbouring house and has since Troye first set foot upon the place he now calls home, sits on a tree branch staring back at him. 

The two have never spoken to one another. They have never even been a part of the same conversation. They don’t run in the same circles, not that Troye really has a circle of friends to run with. Troye is sure that if they hadn’t been placed in houses opposite one another, the other boy wouldn’t even know he exists. But their eyes remain interlocked as they simply stare, something that is a common occurrence between the two. Troye doesn’t know how it had started, how the gawking had begun. But every night it happens, and as time has gone on, things have changed. 

It started off as a staring contest. Then months back, Troye had gone up to his window to find him there watching, but this time was different. He had a cigarette in his hand. Troye had observed him as he had brought the death-trap up to his lips, his eyes never leaving Troyes as he lighted and inhaled the smoke that was produced. Troye could hear him coughing horrendously as it all happened, but he had smiled through the entirety of the experience. After that he sometimes brought a bottle of alcohol, which he would generously swig from. Others times a pad of paper and a pen or a Polaroid camera which he would point at Troye and take pictures of him with a blinding flash.   
Troye doesn’t understand what they’re doing. He doesn’t know what to make of the situation. But he’s addicted and he knows that this is not something he can imagine ever giving up. In between the points of waking up and the staring matches, Troye doesn’t feel anything. A kind of numbness has enveloped him, its hands strangling him and taking him deep down into a dark abyss. It’s at this time of the night when his eyes fixated upon the pair of emerald green one from across the street that the hands let go, and he can finally breathe, finally feel something other than nothing. 

Tonight it’s the pen and paper. Troye leans up against the window sill, an overwhelming sadness enrapturing him every time the boy breaks their gaze to jot something down, but the sadness leaves when their eyes reconnect once more. But as always it has to come to an end. Tonight the other boy leaves, scampering back up the tree and through his open bedroom window. They close the blinds together, ending their allotted time with a simple promise of tomorrow. 

Troye falls onto his bed, one thought coming back to his mind from his conversation with Sage. There is more than meets the eye when it comes to Connor Franta. The Connor who walks the halls with his head held high knowing that everyone knows his name, and the Connor who he has staring matches with into the late hours of the night, are two very different people.

Hi there,

This is my first attempt at a Tronnor fanfiction and I hope if you read it, you enjoyed it. It is also up on Wattpad. I’ll most likely be updating weekly, but don’t quote me on that. I will however try my best. 

If you want you can follow me on twitter @windowsdown22

Thanks Lovlies.


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